


The Fear of Falling Apart

by colorfulCheshire



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Gen, Humanstuck, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 10:25:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1507115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorfulCheshire/pseuds/colorfulCheshire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[These words are knives and often leave scars.]</p><p>Your name is Kankri Vantas and you can't stay here while you're falling to pieces.  You shouldn't make him watch this train wreck when he can be elsewhere.<br/>- -<br/>A song-inspired drabble about anxiety attacks and trying to escape from yourself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fear of Falling Apart

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this after getting hooked on [This is Gospel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tGE381tbQa8) and not being able to do much else until I wrote _something_ to it. I recommend listening while reading? If that's not your cup of tea, that's chill too. It's a great song, though. I highly recommend it and the video.

Your name is Kankri Vantas and you have no idea how you’ve gotten here. Well, you know how you got to the slides at the park in the middle of a thunderstorm – you got up, climbed through your window, and ran the entire way there, not stopping until you could curl up under the meager protection of the thin slide, not caring that you sat yourself right in the middle of an inch-deep puddle.

You suppose that this could explain everything else that you had gotten yourself into at this point in your life – you walked your sorry ass straight into this mess and you were the only one to blame. Just like you’re the one to blame for forgetting about refilling your prescription before they closed for Sunday and Labor Day.

You’re fine, you’re totally fine, you can sit right here for a while and not worry about it.

Your words still linger in the air, even when you’re away from your now-tainted living-room and your probably pissed-off boyfriend. He can get the fuck over it, you tell yourself, because really, why did you have to say that to him? This is all your own fault.

Why do you blame him?

He needs to leave you alone, that’s why – give up on you. You don’t have _time_ to worry about him, and to worry about the shit you’re putting him through.

“ _For the love of everything you hold dear on this fucked-up planet, listen to me when I say LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, CRONUS. YOU CAN’T HELP ME.”_

He was mad, and that’s okay. Maybe if he was mad he’d leave. You’d eventually wander back to your apartment and find it empty, like everything else in your life. At least then, that would give you some space to have your mental breakdown in peace. You’d feel better if you weren’t bothering anyone with your overemotional bullshit anyways.

He deserves better.

Nobody can fix you and make you happy. That’s something you do on your own, if you can do it.

You can’t.

So you won’t drag him down.

“ _Don’t **tell** me to **calm down**. You don’t OWN ME, Cronus. Maybe you should just LEAVE if you can’t deal with it!”_

Kankri Vantas didn’t belong anywhere or to anyone.

It’s cold and you can’t feel your legs in the puddle anymore when you hear a familiar voice calling your name. You see him at the streetlight without an umbrella, his hair sticking to the side of his face underneath the heavy downpour.

He’s calling you. You can’t go back. There’s nothing for you there, back in the real world where you’re cracking from the pressure. Can’t he just let you stay here? It’s nice and cold and quiet and dark. Out here, shivering and unable to distinguish tears from rain, you feel like it’s always been this way, just been this moment of shivering and breathing and _venting_ , letting the storm take your steam and blow away the twenty-million obligations you have back on the surface.

You tell yourself to stay quiet and let him walk by, hoping he gives up soon and retreats to the warmth of the apartment and a nice bed and an easy life without you. The thought catches in your chest and you choke back a sob, only to let it through a moment later.

He hears you and is heading your way. You try to scream at him, to tell him to leave you alone, to fucking leave and not look back, but you can’t seem to make words through your terrible sobbing.

_Let me **go**!_

He doesn’t say anything, just looks down at you before crouching down to your level. You’re a hysterical mess now and you don’t fight back when he wraps an arm around your middle and helps you out of your puddle, pulling the both of you up with support from the slide.

“Fuck you, Cronus Ampora. Fuck you and your lack of listening skills and for _not leaving when I fucking said to **go** ,” _you’re stringing your words together between choked breaths and short sobs, but he just quietly lifts you up, your chest pressed to his as he adjusts your weight in his arms.

You continue muttering to him and yourself as he carries you back in the middle of the rainy night, telling him how fucked up this all is and how you want to leave and not look back and how he can do better and that he needs to fucking let you go. You can handle this on your own, because you have no choice.

He doesn’t say a word, carrying you carefully through the night and rubbing your back whenever you start getting worked up again. You don’t know if you like it or hate it, but you’re sure it’s the later because he really shouldn’t be doing this. How the hell are you supposed to handle things on your own if you let someone baby you like this? It’s not good for either of you. It’ll just make things harder.

_If you love me, let me go._

You don’t want him to, but it’d be better for him, and maybe for you. You’d manage. You did before, you can again.

* * *

 

When you wake up to Cronus crawling in bed, all you can remember is sitting in the freezing rain and then a warm bath while leaning against a warm body and safe arms gently washing away the cold and the grime. A half-empty glass on your nightstand leaves you with the taste of apple cider and you curl further into the purple bath robe that you had fallen asleep in. The sun is peeking out of your heavy curtains in thin lines, but at the moment, you don’t feel obligated to jump up and start the morning rush.

You’re already taking a moment to breath, you can take a bit more, right? Right. Just a moment. You need this so much. You can’t do that again so soon, it’ll kill you.

Your eyes land on a propped up note that you failed to notice on the nightstand. You can see the white lid of a prescription bottle sticking over the top, and while your eyes are still blurry, you can make out the large letters on the paper.

 

> not meaning to snoop, but you mentioned a prescription last night. I found a pharmacy open on the holiday and went and got it filled for you. I wanna help out in what ways I can since I know I’m not great at handling this situation.

It’s late, but you sit up and take your dose with a bottle of water left out, feeling a pressure in your chest ease as the liquid slides down your throat. Maybe you can handle today after all. You should be mad at him for spending that much money on you for a tiny bottle of medicine you could have gotten tomorrow, but you know you shouldn’t have waited that long. So for the moment, you let yourself feel grateful.

When you lay back down, deciding that, yes, you want some more sleep, warm arms wrap around your front as Cronus curls up to your side. You can’t help it, but a tense smile forces its way past your barrier and you lay a hand over his as you take a deep breath in, focusing on the safe touch of the one beside you as you let yourself drift back to sleep for the first late morning in a long, long time.


End file.
